


A Five-Dollar Chicken Bucket of Love

by olivemyheart



Category: I Love You Colonel Sanders, I Love You Colonel Sanders! A Finger-Licking Good Dating Simulator, KFC - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Implied Sexual Content, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, colonel sanders is hot, i tried to keep it gender neutral yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemyheart/pseuds/olivemyheart
Summary: You are a well-bred child of the Southern gentry. When you meet a poor chicken salesman in Kentucky, will you risk it all to follow your heart?





	A Five-Dollar Chicken Bucket of Love

It’s a beautiful day in Kentucky. The sunlight warms your face as you look up at the clear blue sky. You are the only child of a well-established Southern gentleman. With no need to work to support your family, you are accustomed to a life of trivial entertainment. As of now, that means taking your daily meander through the neighborhood.

“Hello!” A voice from the side of the road pulls you out of your idle thoughts. You turn to see a man with striking white hair and a suit to match. “You look hungry there, dear. Care for some chicken?”

On a normal day, you would ignore the peddler. But today you happened to have a lunch that was lighter than usual. The delicious aroma of fried chicken proves to be too much to resist, and you walk over to the stranger’s stand.

“Ah, my first customer of the day,” he says, flashing you a grin that reveals teeth as white as his hair.

“I’m hungry,” you say, not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s just chicken, but something about this interaction feels improper. Maybe it’s the stranger’s accent: the homely drawl of the common folk.

“Everyone’s hungry when they get a whiff of my fried chicken. It’s a patented recipe—well, someday it will be. For now, you can just consider it the best-made chicken this side of the Mississippi.”

Up close, the stranger proves to be incredibly attractive. He has a sharp face with well-defined cheekbones and dark eyelashes that frame intelligent gray eyes. His wire-frame glasses, mustache, and goatee add a mature character to his face. Though he is still a young man, he radiates an aura of wisdom and experience. His white shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to show his toned forearms and strong hands.

“I’ll see when I taste it,” you tease. “How much?”

“Five dollars a bucket.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s awfully expensive for chicken, especially in these times.” Though your family was wealthy enough to weather the Great Depression with only minimal struggle, many others had not been so fortunate.

“My dear, you will soon see that my cooking is priceless. It is an insult to the art to charge even a penny for my chicken. But alas! We must all make ends meet somehow.” He winks at you. “But maybe for a special beau, I can offer one meal for free.” 

You feel a strange fluttering in your stomach that you tell yourself is just hunger. “Who am I to turn down an offer like that?” you say, returning his easy smile.

“Excellent!” he takes a red-and-white-striped bucket from below his cart and hands it to you. It is filled with pieces of chicken. You take one and examine it. It does not look like any chicken you’ve seen before. Still, urged on by the bright enthusiasm of the attractive stranger, you take a bite and  _ moan. _ It’s the most delicious chicken you’ve ever tasted in your life. 

“Like it?” he asks, eyeing you smugly. You suddenly feel very hot.

“Yes, yes, it’s wonderful,” you stutter. Your tongue feels heavy and the words come out jumbled. “I-I must go now, I need to be home soon, I don’t want to catch heatstroke!” You dash away in shame at the utter nonsense that just exited your mouth. The man must think you’re insane, but a quick glance over your shoulder reveals him looking...disappointed? 

You eventually slow to a walk as you approach your mansion. It is only when you finish the last piece of chicken in the basket that you think  _ I never got his name. _

* * *

It is not your custom to take an evening walk, but you do so that night. You tell yourself that it is because of the perfect weather. The heat of late afternoon has cooled into pleasant temperatures as the sun sets over the horizon. However, if you were to be honest with yourself, you would say that you hoped to have a second encounter with the handsome stranger.

To your good fortune, he was in the same place, manning his chicken cart.

“Hello,” you say to him. “Any sales today?” You had rehearsed this line in your head all afternoon.

“Afraid not, my dear.” The sound of his warm voice immediately filled your chest with butterflies. “Unless you’re in the mood for a second bucket? I’m afraid I’ll have to charge you full price this time,” he says teasingly. 

“If you tell me your name, I may be so inclined,” you reply, surprised at how easily the flirtatious comment leaves your lips. He smirks in response.

“Sanders. Colonel Harland Sanders.”

“A dignified name for a dignified man.” 

He bows sardonically. You’re just about to take out your wallet and pay the five dollars for a bucket of fried chicken when a truck flies past, driving so quickly that the tires fling gravel up into the air.

“Oh shit,” Sanders says. He begins hastily packing up his cart. “We need to leave.”

“Who is that?” you ask, staring at the truck in the distance. It had turned around and is now heading back in your direction, a large man hanging out the window.

“Matt Stewart. My competitor in the chicken business. Probably back for round two.”

“Round two?” you demand, your voice shrill.

“Yes. We got in a shootout a few weeks ago. He took out my second, and he’s coming for me next.” Sanders has packed his chicken supply into a large sack, which he slings over his shoulder. He grabs you by the wrist. “We can leave the cart: it’s my chicken recipe they’re after. If we cross the stream we can lose them, but we need to high-tail it.”

You can’t help but marvel at his cool-headedness in the face of grave threat. Besides, having your wrist in his hand is intoxicating. You follow him as he sprints through the streets, eventually coming down a steep incline and crossing a small stream. Though shallow, it requires some wading, and the bottom of your clothes get soaked as you cross.

“Well this won’t do,” he says when you two are on the other side. “I can’t leave a fine noble such as yourself in a state like that. Why don’t you come to my apartment and get cleaned up?”

Your heartbeat quickens at the thought of going to the Colonel’s home, alone with him, and a nasty blush spreads over your cheeks. You’re not sure you have the will to resist even if you wanted to. You nod and let him lead the way once again.

Feeling particularly brave, you take his hand as you walk. He rewards you with a sly grin and you traverse the rest of the way hand in hand, swinging your joined arms between you.

You arrive at the apartment soon enough and he unlocks the door. It’s a small, two-room arrangement, and though the furniture inside is cheap, Sanders has decorated with all kinds of memorabilia that gives it a pleasant and welcoming atmosphere.

“It’s not much,” Sanders says, sounding embarrassed.

“No...it’s a lovely place,” you say, meaning every word. It’s so unlike your own mansion, which is filled with the most expensive furnishings but devoid of any trace of life.

You find Sander’s lack of response concerning; when you turn to look at him, he is staring at you with the strangest expression on his face.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with amusement.

“You’re wonderful.”

A flame spreads itself through your body at the simple but genuine compliment.

“C-colonel, we...we just met…” you stammer.

“I know,” he says mournfully. “Let me get you a change of clothes, then you can be on your way. It wasn’t right to invite you here. It ain’t proper.”

“Colonel,” you say with more confidence. You know what you want. “We just met, but you are unlike any man I’ve ever encountered. You have ignited tender wings of desire within my soul.”

His mouth gapes. He mutters something about you being forward, but you don’t take time to consider. You cup his face in your hand and lean towards him. He closes the gap between you, and your lips meet in the beginnings of romance. He steps closer to you, one hand gently pressing into the small of your back while the other tangles in the hair at the back of your head. A chaste kiss evolves into passion as you open your mouth to him, feeling him gently explore your mouth with his tongue.

He tastes like chicken.

You two softly break away, both breathing a bit labored.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom, my dear?” he asks, voice husky. You feel an answering heat deep in your core.

“Yes,” you answer. He laughs and whisks you off your feet, carrying you to the bed in his strong arms and pinning you beneath him.

* * *

You awaken the next morning bleary and sore, yet with unmistakable joy coursing through you. You turn your head to look at Sanders, asleep in bed beside you. His glasses are removed, his dark eyelashes a shadow over his alabaster skin. With his white hair mussed and framed around his head, he looks like an angel. You lean over and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead, causing his eyes to flutter open.

“Good morning, dear,” he says. Your heart throbs with adoration.

“Good morning, Colonel,” you say.

“Please, call me Harland.” He takes your hand from where it lays and kisses the back. 

“Of course.” As you respond, you are struck with a spike of anxiety. “Harland...last night was wonderful, but...do you intend to see me again?” It is very possible, of course, that he could leave without a trace now that he has had his fun.

“I would love to, my dear, but I’m afraid I need to leave town. With Stewart on the hunt, it ain’t safe for me anymore.”

You feel a hitch in your throat, and find yourself choking back tears at the thought of never seeing this wonderful man again. 

“Let me come with you!” you yell on sudden impulse.

“No. It-it wouldn’t be right. You have a life here, and I’m just a poor chicken salesman. I couldn’t provide for you.”

“I hate it here. I am nothing but a canary in a cage, to be marveled at but never to fly. I want to be free with you, Harland. I love you.”

Your declaration of love hangs in the air between you and Harland, long enough for you to wonder if you’ve made a mistake. But eventually, his mouth opens in a bright grin.

“Then let us forge our destiny together, my dear,” he says, taking your face in his and bringing you in for a gentle and lingering kiss. “We will be the rulers of a chicken empire together.”

_ Together, _ you think. Nothing could be more perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic you guys!! I am in love with Colonel Sanders in the new dating sim so of course I had to write a oneshot for him ^v^. I hope you enjoyed it! Yes this is one hundred percent serious.


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